


Songbird

by ismellitblue



Category: Chicago Med, His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemon Touching, Daemons, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, PTSD, Suicide Attempt, this fic is not about singing birds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27104611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ismellitblue/pseuds/ismellitblue
Summary: In a world where people's souls are there for all to see, Ethan can't run away from his PTSD.
Relationships: Ethan Choi & Dr Charles
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Songbird

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Chicago Med.

Before the war, Ethan wasn’t what people would call…joyful, but he was happy. It’s only after he’s seen friends die, and watched countless young men and women breathe their last that he realizes this.

Happiness- the emotion is buried so deep that even memories that he remembers being warm only make his chest feel hollow.

But he’s gone through war and survived it, he’s stronger now, so he holds himself together. His hair is perfectly styled, his scrubs are neat, he pulls extra shifts at the hospital and he never misses a beat when handling patients. Were he alone the lie he’s crafted around himself would be easy to believe, but he’s not.

His daemon rides along on his shoulder.

Where Ethan is sharp lines and a stoic face, Kali is…Kali is falling apart. She doesn’t talk, doesn’t fly and bleeds feathers wherever they go. No one at the hospital even knows that she was once a vibrant green colour. All they see is a fading spirit and they either pity him or stay away.

“This isn’t so bad, I’m doing better,we’re doing better,”He tells her after a particularly harrowing nightmare. In response she loses the last of her tail feathers. It’s no big deal, she’s practically bald now, but for some reason he starts to cry. It’s a small thing at first, a sob, a single tear, easy to ignore. Then the feather turns to dust and he just starts bawling.

He cries for a long time, Kali’s talons digging into his bare shoulder, her bare wing against his cheek. It’s shameful and ungrateful of him, he should be happy, he’s back home, _safe_. Countless others didn’t get that chance, he should cherish every day, and he does-he really does.

_But he’s just so tired._

Without even thinking about it, he goes into the bathroom. There’s an array of pills there, and he scoops them all up.

He winds-up on the kitchen floor, all the bottles open, with a pitcher of water by his knee. The cold seeps in through his boxers, and Kali is on his thigh, looking up at him with an indifferent gaze…she’s tired too.

It’s easier than it should be to pick up the first bottle, and chase the pills down with some water. He’s halfway through the second bottle, hand shaking as he tries to keep from dropping the little capsules when he feels Kali’s weight shift.

She moves until her little head is leaning against his stomach, gold dust flowing freely from her the more pills he takes.Letting go of the jug, he runs a weakened hand over her, drawing her closer.

“I’m sorry,” Despite having cried silently, his voice is hoarse, and the realization that this is probably the last time he’ll ever see her has him tearing up again.

He slumps sideways as the pills kick in, and he curls around her. The tablets scatter across the floor, and try as he might, he can’t get up the strength to pick them up. But he has to, for himself and for her, this isn’t living, she’s been dying for months-he needs to end ~~her~~ , _their suffering_. So he digs deep and his hand picks up one of the remaining bottles and he slowly brings it to his lips.

There’s a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, and for the second time, more pills end up on the floor. But this time it’s not his fault.

It’s Kali. Naked wing outstretched, breathing heavily, with gold dust flowing from her beak. She looks terrible, and Ethan knows he’s probably not far behind her, but for the first time since she came back- _there’s fire in her eyes_.

“Ethan,”She croaks, and her voice is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard.She nips lightly at the fingers that had been holding the bottle before looking at him again.

“ _Live_ ,”She breathes, her beak against his nose…so he does.

He finds the strength to get up and stagger to his first aid kit, he swallows down charcoal before passing out. In the morning he’s covered in vomit, and smells awful… but he’s managed to wake up.

“Ethan,”His gaze snaps to Kali, and she’s right there, no longer covered in dust, and right on the crown of her head, amongst the tiny grey feathers, is a single green feather.

Live, she’d said-so that’s what he’ll do. He gathers her into his arms and heads for the shower, and once they’re clean, he falls into their daily routine, getting ready for work.

He arrives early as always, but this time he makes his way to Dr Charles’ office.

“I’d like to make an appointment,”

“For whom?”The man asks, his saint bernard regarding them with bright eyes.

“For me,”Ethan answers,voice coming out stronger than he feels, and another feather blooms on Kali’s head.


End file.
